Redemption
by VILYA74
Summary: Finally finished! The story of Aragorn and the little Orc he tries to redeem. Will nature or nurture win out? Read on, and find out.
1. Finding Faith

**REDEMPTION**

By Vilya74

_Disclaimer:_

I don't own anyone but myself, and claim no rights to any of the characters of Middle Earth. The story is my own. The character, Celboril, was created by and is owned by Siobhan and Cassia, the great authors of the Mellon Chronicles. I'm just borrowing him and hope to return him unscathed.

The story has not been beta'd so please don't flame me for departures from canon. I would welcome any input and corrections, though.

Reviews are very welcome (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

_Summary:_

A while ago a 'critter challenge' was issued. The idea was to write a story, preferably humorous, about an unusual pet for Aragorn. I started thinking about the what-ifs of an adult Aragorn coming across an Orc child and trying to rehabilitate the creature. Why not? After all, Orcs were once Elves. Can an Orc be saved if brought up in a loving environment? It is the old nature versus nurture debate.

Stories have a life of their own, so let's see where this one leads.

_Part I: Finding Faith_

He slowly drew back the bowstring and sighted along the shaft. The deer tensed, poised for flight. It knew it was in danger but could not sense where the threat was originating.

One moment he was that threat, and then the fear of the old buck transferred to the Elf as he sensed an evil presence. He pricked his ears, and the slight movement of his head was enough to set off the deer, but not quickly enough to evade the arrow speeding towards him from the direction where he wanted to flee.

"Yes!" Legolas heard his human friend rejoicing. They had been tracking this deer for most of the morning, the wily old buck always eluding them at the last moment.

"Shhh," he quickly gestured towards Aragorn, who knew better than to question such a command. He quickly crossed the distance between them and then asked the question with his eyebrows. Legolas gave a slight shake of his head to indicate his uncertainty, but then it was no longer necessary to wonder at the sense of impending danger when the shrill cry of some critter betrays the position of a band of Orcs. Aragorn fell the deer half way up a hill, and through the trees they now got an excellent view of the approaching party in the gully below. They quietly dropped down behind the trunk of a huge old tree to avoid being spotted themselves.

A gruff voice grated out: "Keep the bloody thing quiet woman!"

"He's hungry he is, the poor mite, and tired at that. Ye been marchin us along the whole mornin." A slap across her face is the only answer that the female Orc received. Her indignant screeches joined with the bawling of the infant in her arms to cause a cacophony of sound that made Legolas wince.

"Have you ever seen a female or a baby before?" Aragorn whispered, although the noise from below would have drowned out a shout. Again Legolas shook his head.

"The females and the young ones are said to stay deep underground in the caves that are scattered throughout the mountains of Mordor. Only the males become warriors and venture forth into the lands of the other races in war parties. In all my years I have never seen either a female or an infant Orc. Nor do I know of any of my people who have. Something profound must have happened to bring them this deep into Middle Earth."

The child was in the meantime put on the ground by the female who then became locked in frenzied combat with the Orc that slapped her earlier. Both were flinging insults at each other. The rest of the troupe was shouting their encouragement to the combatants and the spectacle might have continued for some time yet if the wind did not shift at that moment

"Man-flesh!" one warrior less occupied by the fight shouted and the group was almost instantaneously transformed from undisciplined rabble to a fighting unit. "And Elf-flesh too," one said with glee. This was the cue for Legolas to let loose a barrage of arrows which left five of the eleven warriors sprawled on the ground before the band could even react. Not to be outdone, Aragorn uttered a roaring battle cry as he crashed through trees, sword drawn, engaging the first Orc as the last of Legolas' arrows found its mark before he too joined the fray with his knives. The battle was furious, and it was not without their fair share of cuts and bruises that the two friends found themselves some time later, breathing hard as they surveyed the carnage. These Orcs were not the usual fare. Clearly they represented some type of 'elite' unit, if they could be called that.

"What happened to the female and the child?" asked Aragorn between gasps.

"She grabbed him and ran in that direction," Legolas indicated towards his left while ripping a piece of his cloak with his teeth to bind a bleeding wound on his thigh.

"You all right?" Aragorn asked with a concerned look.

"A few scratches, Mother, that's all," the elf replied with a mocking grin.

"Ha ha, very funny," grumbled Aragorn, "don't think you're going to get away with it that easily. You can't just bind up a morgul wound like any other, and well you know it, Legolas."

"Aragorn, please, I have been fighting Orcs since before you were born. Loooong before you were born. I know when they poisoned their blades and when not."

"Oh is that how you explain your little trip to the infirmary last month?" Legolas blushed slightly as he recalled being carried across the shoulder of his ranger friend mile after mile. A very distraught ranger who almost did not get him to Lord Elrond in time.

"Fine, you made your point," he agreed reluctantly and pretended not to see the satisfied grin on the human's face. Aragorn cleansed and bounds their wounds properly after applying a poultice to fight off the infection that would almost inevitably follow any encounter with the filthy weapons of the Orcs. By the time he finished night had fallen and both were loath to continue in the dark. They assembled a makeshift flet some distance from the battle scene. They secured what remained of the deer after a very satisfying evening meal and retired for the night. Several times that night Legolas could have sworn that he heard the far off cries and screeches of the infant Orc.

Shortly after dawn the two friends started tracking the female's passage through the woods. It was clear that she had little understanding of covering her tracks, but her progress was swift and it was not until late that afternoon when they found both the Orcs. The mother was sprawled awkwardly at the bottom of a ravine, her broken leg bent at an eye-twisting angle. The way she moved when she became aware of their presence made it apparent to Aragorn's trained eye that she must have sustained some severe internal injuries too when she tumbled headlong down the steep bank.

From the tracks Legolas could see that the child had fallen clear of his mother when she fell, after which he climbed down the almost sheer walls to reach her. It was a miracle that the young one was still alive, and showing no more injury than skinned hands and knees. But it was the bewildered look on the little wretch's face that troubled him most. It

was clear that the child had seen the man and Elf and wanted to run to the relative safety of his mother's arms, but somehow dared not do so.

When Aragorn started descending, Legolas learned to his horror the reason for the youngster's indecision. His fear of the man overcame his reluctance to approach his mother, and he toddled towards her with a cry, but the moment he came within reach, she lunged at him with a broken knife blade. She barely missed as a loose rock made him stumble. Pain prevented her from renewing her attack immediately and the boy used the moment to scramble away, now bawling hysterically.

Seeing that Aragorn would reach the child in moments she made a desperate last attempt to kill her offspring be throwing the knife at the child. If not for the broken blade the knife would have flown true, but instead of piercing his heart, the knife buried itself deep in the arm of the screaming child.

Anger replaces shock and within a moment an arrow left the bow of the Elf who was still standing at the top of the ravine. The point found its mark and the hate-contorted face of the Orc relaxed into death.

"Legolas, I could use your help down here."

"Coming." Sure footed the Elf bounded down the steep ground to reach the man struggling to hold the shrieking boy still so that he might remove the knife without further injuring the child.

"Hold him for me." Aragorn tried to push the bundle of noise into the Elf's arms, but Legolas flinched.

"Why don't you rather hold him. You already have him in your arms. I will remove the weapon." Aragorn looked surprised at Legolas, but when he saw the disgust on his friend's face he decided not to argue the point. Legolas might be moved to kill by the sight of the attempted infanticide, but to an Elf an Orc remained the personification of all that is evil and corrupt. Knowing that these foul creatures once walked amongst the First Born made it al the more unsettling. He could not expect Legolas to feel any compassion towards the wounded creature he was holding, and having already gained several scratches, bites and kicks, even Aragorn's patience began to wear thin. Yet there was infinite kindness in Legolas' hands when he withdrew the blade and bound up the deep flesh wound. A draught of a hastily mixed potion forced between the lips of the still squealing child brought an end to the constant noise when drug enforced sleep claimed him.

"Dear Elbereth, I think I'm developing a migraine," sighed Legolas when quiet finally descended.

"I thought Elves don't get headaches," laughed Aragorn, but silently also thanked the Valar for the reprieve.

"Clearly that is because no Elf in recent times has had the misfortune to meet with an Orc-child."

In days to come both Legolas and Aragorn would be reminded of these words, and come to ponder on the fate that led them to cross paths with the shrieking, stinking ball of fury they now found themselves saddled with.


	2. To Rivendell

_Part II: To Rivendell_

The drug had kept the child asleep through the night and he was still sleeping when dawn came. Legolas rose and scouted the area while Aragorn prepared breakfast. By the time Legolas returned the delicious smell of barbecued venison was filling the air and all was still quiet.

"No more surprises out there?" Aragorn asked without looking around as Legolas silently approached.

"None that I could see, but they may have been driven off by your cooking skills," said Legolas with a grin that he hid by pretending to busy himself with the cracking of the nuts he gathered while he had been scouting.

"Why your father does not employ you as court jester I will never understand, my lord Elf. Surely your skills are wasted out here," replied Aragorn with a mock-bemused look. Legolas' response was cut short by an earsplitting shriek from the flet.

"Ah, prince charming awakes," murmured Legolas, "better get him down from there before he hurts himself."

The Orcling was clearly terrified by the realization that he found himself halfway up a tree. He curled himself into a ball in the middle of the makeshift platform, and screamed and screamed. Aragorn reached out to him, intending to take the boy into his arms so that he could soothe his fears. The moment he touched the Orc, he exploded into violence, launching himself at Aragorn with nails and teeth. His actions so surprised Aragorn that he lost his balance and tumbled from the branch on which he had perched. Only quick reflexes and long familiarity with trees saved him from a potentially fatal fall, but did not spare him from any number of scratches and bruises. A soft curse escaped his lips and turned out to be only the first in a long succession of imprecations uttered under his breath that morning.

As Aragorn recovered himself he heard the little Orc's shrill laughter from the flet.

"Well at least your clumsiness amuses him. It's a definite improvement from the screaming," said Legolas in his most helpful tone of voice. The leaves obscured the glare Aragorn gave him. He climbed back to the flet, but as soon as he reached its side the child withdrew and began shrieking again. Forewarned that the pathetic little bundle rocking itself on the opposite edge of the platform would not come tamely, Aragorn took off his overcoat to use it for trapping the Orc. He soon found that this was easier said than done, but after about twenty minutes during which the child somehow repeatedly managed to free himself and slip from Aragorn's grasp, he finally captured him. Having done so he still had to climb down the tree with a screaming, struggling bundle that threatened to dislodge his grip on the branches time and again.

"Legolas, a little help here!" Aragorn's shouted in irritation.

"No, no, Mellon-nin, you are doing so well. Almost there. Just grab that branch to your left and swing down." The laughter in the Elf's voice did little to improve Aragorn's temper, but his suggestion at least was helpful and shortly thereafter he landed on the ground, only to find that the Orc had managed to shake his head free and had sunk his teeth into Aragorn's arm. He would have been nursing a serious bite wound if not for the leather overcoat Aragorn was wearing.

The little Orc looks at the sturdy leather in puzzlement and then reached out to touch it gingerly. For some reason the feel of the leather amused him and he smiled unexpectedly. Aragorn stared in astonishment at the transformation in the creature's face, and looked at Legolas, who was contemplating the pair open-mouthed.

"Well Little One, you must be starving." Aragorn quietly murmured and sat down near the fire. Legolas handed him a slice of barbecued venison. Immediately the child began to squirm. "Settle down, Little One, settle down," he tried to quiet him, "have some meat, here." He held a piece of the meat close to the child's mouth, but he erupted in fury, screaming while he clawed at Aragorn's face. To save his eyes he had to let go of the Orc, who lost no time to scamper away into the trees.

"Oh, for Elbereth's sake!" Aragorn swore.

Legolas put his head on one side and asked, "Aren't you going to follow him?"

"No. Well, not right now. Right now I am going to have breakfast, and then I might consider following him. Or I might decide to just leave him to the other creatures in the forest."

Legolas looks skeptically at his friend "A child? Since when would you consider leaving a baby-anything to its own fate? I think I remember Elladan telling me about the skunks, weasels, even a little bear you tried to raise."

Aragorn grunted in defeat. "Yes, I know. But I'm still having breakfast first."

As it turned out, he did not have to go after the little Orc, since the creature emerged hesitantly from the forest when they were almost finished eating. He hovered on the verge of the trees for a while before making a dash for the carcass of the dear. His sharp little claws tore strips of raw meat from the bones that he stuffed hungrily into his mouth.

"Aragorn! He's ruining the meat!" Legolas shouted as he jumped up to stop the havoc the Orcling was wreaking. With a snarl he ripped off a large chunk and then scampered away into the trees. "I don't mind you feeding stray animals, Aragorn, but I do draw the line when they despoil our food," the irate Elf grumbled as he cut away the shredded pieces.

Aragorn turned away from where he had been staring into the forest, and said in a placating voice "He did not have the benefit of learning table manners yet, Legolas."

"And you are going to teach those to him?" Legolas asked with raised eyebrows.

"Someone will have to. If he comes back that is. Cut off another chunk when you're done there Legolas, and let's put it on the stone over there. I have an idea."

"Bait?"

"Yes and no. I don't think we will be very successful if we try to force the child to come along with us, but we might be able to lure him into following us with food."

"Aragorn, I know the discovery of an Orc child may be a significant event, but do we really want to take that thing along with us anywhere?"

"Afraid you're reputation might be tarnished if you're seen with Orcs?" Aragorn grinned at him.

"We're south of Lothlorien, Aragorn. We have a long way to travel before either of us reaches his home. The road will be filled with enough dangers not to include irate Elves, and believe me, mellon-nin, few Elves will take kindly to the presence of an Orc, infant or no." Legolas' voice was very serious when he looked his friend in the eyes.

"I know, Legolas, but you said it yourself. I can't just abandon it. What if all it needs is a good home? What if something of the Elf survived the corruption? Could he not be redeemed? Can we afford to let an opportunity like this pass without exploring that possibility? If we are successful, can he not be the link to other Orcs?" Aragorn's voice was equally serious, even pleading. They stared at each other for a long time before Legolas relented and walked towards the stone indicated earlier by Aragorn where he placed the meat down.

"All right," he said as he returned, "but we will have to be even more alert than ever. And he is NOT coming into Mirkwood. We can take him to Rivendell, and you can explain yourself to Lord Elrond, but I am not going face my father's wrath if he sees me with that thing."

"Thank you, my friend," Aragorn said as he clasped Legolas arm. Legolas simply nodded and then walked off to start breaking camp. Aragorn joined him. The little Orc did not appear again, but as they left the clearing Aragorn could see him ducking down behind a bush, and when he looked back again a few moments later, he could see the child through the trees, hungrily consuming the meat left for him.

For the next few weeks they traveled north towards the pass which would lead them across the mountains to Rivendell. The little Orc remained at a distance initially, but continued to follow them. After a while he no longer ran away when they approached and even accepted his food from Aragorn's hand before retreating a few paces. However, he continued to refuse any cooked food and once, when they put down some berries for him, pelted them with the fruit. It was clear that he would have nothing but raw meat. At night he slept beneath whichever tree Legolas and Aragorn had decided to call home. A few times they narrowly avoided contact with other Elves, and it was with both relief and trepidation that they finally crossed into Rivendell territory.

"I can't wait to hear you explain this to your father," Legolas said grinning at his friend.

"You understood, Legolas. I have faith that my father will too."

"You have faith in a lot of things, mellon-nin. You even have faith that you may civilize your latest pet. Perhaps you should call him that: Bronwe. Besides, you can't take me as a measure of Lord Elrond's reaction. I lost my good senses the day I met you." He gave a heartfelt sigh, and walked on, shaking his head.

"I'll remember that for future conversations," laughed Aragorn.

They continued until nightfall, but as they were still some distance from home, they decided to set up camp rather than continue in the dark.

As they ate their breakfast the next morning, Legolas observed, "Aragorn, I think we should secure the little monster before we continue. It might not be such a good thing if the Elves see us approach with an Orc following."

"Secure?" Aragorn questioned.

"Bind. Gag. Whatever will keep him under control. A screeching Orc will be little better than a free ranging one."

Much as Aragorn disliked the idea he had to agree that Legolas had a point. Instead of attempting to run down the child and forcibly drag him to Imladris, he reached for his pack and took out a vial and a few bags of herbs. "Let's rather drug him," he responded.

The taste of the drug in his meat clearly did not disturb the young one, who devoured the food with his normal ravenous appetite. Not too long thereafter Aragorn was able to pick up the limp little body and disguise him somewhat with his bedroll. They both spent the last few miles in quiet contemplation of what the future may hold.


	3. At the caves

Part III: At the bat caves 

"Absolutely not!" Elrond thundered. Glad as he was to see his son and his friend walk into Imladris on their own steam, he was furious with Aragorn for bringing the Orc into his house. These sentiments were shared by the twins who had vociferously joined the opposition to all Aragorn's entreaties. "Aragorn, that thing is evil, corrupt. It is the spawn of Melkor himself. There is no good in it to be discovered, no matter how deep you may dig. You know I have always allowed you to make your own mistakes, but this is one time I cannot do that. There are other lives at stake. Perhaps not the adults as yet, but the children in Rivendell will not be safe, and they are my responsibility."

Aragorn sighed and hung his head. He knew his father was right. Even if he was prepared to take the risk, he could not expose the other residents of Rivendell to the same. Particularly not the little ones.

"You are right, Ada, but having brought him this far, I cannot simply kill him, and leaving him to fend for himself in the wilds will be tantamount to doing that. I will take him to the bat caves. No one ever really goes there, and I can take care of him there."

Elrond still looked angry, but seeing the determination in his son's eyes he relented. "Do so then, but make sure that creature does not stray. I don't want him anywhere near the valley."

Legolas stood listening in silence as the family spoke, but now touched Aragorn's arm and pointed to where the little Orc was lying on a sofa. "He is beginning to wake. If you are thinking of taking him to the caves today, I suggest we leave immediately or we might have exactly the sort of scene your father wants to avoid." Aragorn nodded and picked up the restless child.

No more than two miles from Imladris the Orcling sleepily opened his eyes and raised his head. Realising that he was being carried by Aragorn, he stiffened, but he did not start screaming and struggling as Aragorn full well expected. Instead he contemplated him curiously for a while and then started tugging at Aragorn's beard. When Aragorn protested the child laughed and tried again. The game went on for a while until Legolas could hear Aragorn's protests become more urgent. He took a spare bowstring from his pack and cut a bit off. He added a few leaves, bark chips and seed pods to the string and then tied it off. Before the child could object, he hung it around his neck. The distraction immediately worked. Aragorn gave Legolas a thankful look, and for the rest of the way he was spared further assault, as the little Orc touched the various bits in fascination.

Before the child had time to turn into a monster again, they reached the caves. The reason why no one came there anymore was immediately apparent to Legolas. The bats had not so much made the caves their home as their privy.

"Eh, I think I'll wait for you outside while you make our little friend comfortable," Legolas said as he retreated to a safe distance.

"Sissy," Aragorn shouted at him, but secretly agreed as he entered. The stench had certainly increased somewhat since he was there last. However, his next problem had already presented itself. It was clear from the way the little Orc was clinging to him when he tried to put him down, that he had no intention of being left there. Trying to ignore the smell, he found a spot that was slightly cleaner than the rest of the cave floor, and sat down with the child on his lap. The little Orc nestled against him and rested his head against Aragorn's chest while he continued to play with his necklace. At first he was too surprised to say or do anything, but then he started rubbing the little one's back carefully, and when he was not answered with a bite, he continued in a bolder fashion. He started talking, softly telling the child that he would have to remain here. That he would receive food and that Aragorn would spend time with him as often as he can. To be good and not run away, not follow them home. The whole while the Orc continued to play with the necklace as if he was not hearing a word, but when Aragorn tried to rise, he grabbed his coat and began to whimper.

By this time Legolas was slightly worried, and called into the cave "Aragorn, everything in order?"

"Yes and no," Aragorn called back. "Our little friend here has decided to become affectionate. He doesn't want me to leave. Frankly I don't want to leave him either, but I don't cherish the idea of spending the night in this cave. If you think it stinks out there, come in a little."

"Ah, no, thank you. If it's all the same to you I'd rather stay out here. Why don't we try to erect a sort of shelter out here where the two of you can stay for the night, and then we can build something stronger in the morning. Something that will keep him indoors while you are not here. You will have to leave him at some stage, unless you are planning on spend your life holed up with him out here until he comes of age or whatever is that Orcs do."

"Sounds good. Why don't you start and I will see whether I can convince my limpet to let go so I can help."

It took a lot of back rubbing and talking before Bronwe finally let go. Even afterwards he followed Aragorn and Legolas around the whole time. By the time the sun went down they had a serviceable shelter. They all spent the night there, but the following morning Legolas returned to Imladris to report to Lord Elrond, and explain the situation. It took some convincing, but in the end Legolas persuaded the twins to help him put building materials on a couple of packhorses and accompany him back to the caves.

The distrust seemed to be mutual, and while the twins avoided coming close to the Orc, Bronwe never strayed more than five feet from Aragorn. It took them four days to build a sturdy hut that could be locked up. It had no windows, only slits for air and light. When they were done, Legolas and the twins departed. For the next few weeks Aragorn stayed with the little Orc while he got used to his new home. He showed him how to gather food and even managed to get him to taste some of it. Most got spat out, but after a while he did swallow some.

He tried to play a few games with Bronwe, but it seemed as if he only understood the ones involving violence of some kind. Wrestling was certainly his favourite, but Orc-wrestling, it turned out, included nails and teeth. It was a while before Aragorn could convince him otherwise.

Legolas visited on a regular basis, and to his astonishment it was clear to him that Aragorn was making some progress, even if it was somewhat haphazardly. At times it seemed if Bronwe simply forgot everything he had been taught, but then, just as suddenly, he would surprise them all by doing something completely contrary to what they had always believed of Orcs.

Aragorn had given up on teaching him to make daisy chains since Bronwe just ripped the flowers all to pieces. Yet, without Aragorn's knowledge, he fashioned a bracelet of wild flowers, which he shyly presented to Legolas one morning. As soon as they got over their shock, they praised him effusively. After that no flower was safe in the area and Legolas had to accept copious amounts of floral jewelry.

The weeks turned into months. Legolas relieved Aragorn of his paternal duties at times, but the time came when he had to return to Mirkwood. Aragorn remained behind with Bronwe and only occasionally returned to Rivendell to report and to replenish supplies. Lord Elrond remained unconvinced, despite Aragorn's good reports, but he said nothing. The seasons turned and it was almost a full year since they went to the bat caves when Aragorn returned to Rivendell with Bronwe at his side.


	4. The nature of things

_Part IV: The nature of things_

Lord Elrond's displeasure was clear, but he had to admit to himself that he was impressed with what Aragorn had accomplished. It was clear that he was frightened, but Bronwe remained at Aragorn's side without causing a fuss, ate at the table, albeit with his hands. He still preferred raw meat, but he suffered through meals with fewer complaints than Elrond was wont to hear from the twins when they were children. He could say only a few words in Elvish, but clearly understood what was said to him. He even demonstrated that he was capable of play and affection. Aragorn argued that he was ready to meet with Elflings of his own age. Indeed, that his progress would be much accelerated if he could observe their actions, but here Lord Elrond still put his foot down. Bronwe could stay in his house as long as he was no trouble, but he was not to go amongst the other Elves.

The arrangement was more than Aragorn had secretly hoped for and he accepted it gratefully. During the next few months Bronwe became part of the household. His temper-tantrums at times were offset by his affectionate nature at others, and even the twins began to see him more as a difficult child than an Orc. Celboril reluctantly admitted one day to Lord Elrond that Bronwe caused slightly less wreckage in the house than Elladan and Elrohir at the same age. This may have been somewhat exaggerated since that time lay many centuries in the past, and Bronwe was certainly no angle.

It was too much to hope for that all would proceed without incident. Bronwe did venture outside from time to time, despite Aragorn's strict prohibitions, and when he encountered Elflings he learned some hard lessons in bigotry. His surprise at their enmity soon turned to anger and his snarling at them did little to endear him with their parents. To alleviate his longing for companionship, Aragorn gave him a young squirrel that had fallen from its nest. He feared that Bronwe may view the animal as food, but the little Orc took to the furry creature almost immediately. The squirrel was initially frightened, but soon accepted Bronwe as his new parent. The two became inseparable.

It was a beautiful sunny morning following a week of rains when Aragorn went out to hunt with his brothers. He left Bronwe in Celboril's care, since Elrond had gone to Bree, but the little Orc soon slipped his leash and went to play under his favourite tree. He stayed there the whole day, amusing himself in the ways most children of that age would have, with the result that he was soon covered in mud, twigs and leaves. It was thus that the other children found him that afternoon.

They taunted him about his appearance, and he tried to ignore them as Aragorn had taught him. When they got no reaction from him, they started shoving him around. The little squirrel had fled up the tree as soon as the Elflings had appeared, and it now twittered and screeched at them from on high. A few of the older Elflings nimbly climbed the tree, and soon they had caught the squirrel. Bronwe had snarled at them went he was pushed around, but had made no other effort to protect himself. However, perceiving that his only playmate was in danger, he became enraged, and tried to take the animal from them. Cruelly they began throwing the little squirrel from one to the other, while the animal squealed in fright and pain. One such throw was off and he ended up smack against a tree trunk. The little body fell limply to the forest floor. Bronwe rushed over, but soon perceived that his friend was beyond help.

The anger and hatred of a thousand generations boiled up in him and when he turned around, the Elflings took a step back at the sight of the fury in his eyes. They fled when he rushed at them, but the youngest was not quick enough. The others did not bear witness as Bronwe tore him limb from limb and shredded his body into pieces, but they did hear the screams as they ran away.

Aragorn heard the angry voices and Bronwe's frightened squeals when he stepped from the forest. He dropped his gear and ran towards the sounds, closely followed by his brothers. When he was about fifty paces away he could see one of the Elves draw his sword and approach the little Orc where he was held, struggling and screaming, between two other Elves.

"No! Wait!" he cried out and ran even harder.

At the sound of his voice Bronwe started yelling for his help, but before he could reach them, the sword was trust through his chest. Blood gushed from the wound and from his mouth. Aragorn caught the little body as it fell from the other Elves' hands. The Orcling was struggling to say something as Aragorn bent his head over him. Elrohir grabbed hold of the one who had wielded the sword, and demanded an explanation.

"That savage killed Taurelion's son! Without any provocation! When a dog bites an Elf he is put down. That animal deserved no less."

Aragorn heard the words where he sat, holding the dying child, but he could not make sense of any of it. Bronwe's pleading eyes held his and Aragorn could barely make out the words he managed to say before he died: "Ada...sorry..."

He carried the body back to Imladris, without a word, without a tear. He cleansed it, wrapped it in a silk sheet, the feel of which Bronwe had always adored, and silently buried him some way into the forest. It was only when these rituals were done that he could give vent to his grief.

Elrond found him still next to the little grave much later that evening. Upon his return the twins had informed him of everything that happened. He had visited the grieving Elven family and his anger at Aragorn had burned fiercely in him when he returned. He had planned on waiting for his return to Imladris, but when Elrohir silently brought him the body of the little squirrel, he changed his mind.

"Aragorn?" he softly called to the ranger where he sat staring at the ground.

"Ada, I'm sorry." The eyes he lifted to his father's were filled with despair and remorse. "You warned me of the danger he could present to the other children. But I believed..." He shook his head and hung it once more.

"You believed right, my son. It was our own Elflings who were the monsters today," Elrond said softly.

Aragorn lifted his head again. "How do you mean?"

Elrond handed him the stiff remains of the squirrel. "Perhaps you should bury him with Bronwe." Aragorn took the little body but continued to look questioning at Lord Elrond. "Elrohir found him at the site where the other boy was killed. He suspected something and questioned a few of the children who were present. One of the girls admitted that they were tormenting Bronwe and that his pet was killed by accident in the process. Bronwe went berserk," he ended sadly.

"So the Orc in him won out in the end," Aragorn replied quietly.

"Yes." Elrond sighed. "But I think that there are as much of the Orc in every Elf as there are of the Elf in the Orc. All we can really hope for is that our children grow up to be the best there is in them."

They remained sitting at the grave for a long time, each contemplating the nature of the people they loved.

The End


End file.
